I've got questions
by whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer
Summary: "She's the patron goddess of Ishvalans. They prayed to her for deliverance, strength, and safety but you know what? Their rotting corpses still ended up dug up by some animal because the soldiers that murdered woman and children didn't care to put rocks ontop of the unmarked mass graves they threw the corpses in. Where was Ishvala then?" (Or Ishvalan!Ed discussing faith.)


A/N: Originally posted on ao3 under the pen name youngjusticewriter. Part seven of the Elrics Through the Looking Glass series that's an Ishvalan au. Warning: Edward cusses.

Song for this fic: Burn it down by The Daughter.

Thanks goes to Wiki quote. I wouldn't have been able to write this easily without it because I currently don't have Netflix. :(

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Something ugly burns in Edward as he stands there under the sun, his automail limbs cooking the skin of the ports are attached to, that's heat isn't letting up. In fact it's getting worse. (The whole idea of laying in the fountain he'd seen earlier for a few minutes is a lot more tempting.)

Perhaps it's the heat or the loudness of the crowd that cheers at the "miracles" given to them by the chosen prophet of Leto that makes his temper just itch. Maybe it's just the stupidity of them, Edward wondered as Rose jabbered about and Alphonse hummed accordingly; sometimes Edward can't help but wonder if Al would be like he was if he remembered what Edward did.

Years have past and Edward can still remember the poor imitation of a human that had too much teeth. It had told Edward it was called the world, the universe, God. Edward's mouth twisted into a thin smile as he recalled those things. Recalled how it had said it was referred to such titles; it had never told Edward what it was only what it was called.

"Would you like to see the chapel?" Rose offers sweetly, her hands clung together in excitement.

Alphonse answers for Ed as Edward pictures something in his mind:

Dark, sweaty palms pressed together in pray, pink bangs against her hands as Rose tilts her head forward in reverence; dark, gloved hands pressed brutally together, crafted metal and his own flesh sting as the sound of a clap finishes as the phase of deconstruction begins.

Edward doesn't talk till he's seated but there is noise even after they depart from the roaring crowd. There's the clank of armor and footsteps (one set, his, that are uneven) that are the only noise in the empty room.

The goddess' empty, gold eyes have watched them since they've stepped foot on the white marble. Now the mother of the sun seems to be looking down at him as Edward lounges on the front pew. He fishes out a notebook knowing full well he's going to need it once he opens his mouth. Edward can feel soft brown leather of his notebook even with gloves on.

"If we believe in divine grace, and through her all things are possible… If you believe, I'm sure Leto would bless you and make you grow taller!"

Edward's hand clenched the unopened notebook, "What's that suppose to mean!?" His angered, raised voice was the only noise in the large chapel.

Aren't people who believed in religion suppose to be nice as well as idealistic idiots?

"Easy, brother! She's just trying to help!" Al cried out and Edward rolled his eyes; helping was not insulting people over something they couldn't control. Edward was not going to be forever a pint sized midget. He'd grow taller and without praying to something that didn't give a damn. Just those two wait and see.

"What about bringing the dead back to life? Do you believe that's possible too?" Edward asked, head tilted lazily as he start to flip through pages of his notebook to look for-

"Yes," Rose confessed, emotion thick in her voice.

Edward didn't actually need the list but people took you more seriously when you're reading off something than recalling it to mind if you're younger than them. People also thought Ishvalans wouldn't do alchemy and weren't smart; people were often idiots in Edward's blunt opinion.

"Water: thirty-five Liters, carbon: twenty kilograms, ammonia: four Liters, lime: one point five kilograms, phosphorus: eight hundred grams, salt: two hundred and fifty grams, saltpeter: one hundred grams, and various other trace elements," Edward left off as he noticed the dumb founded look on Rose.

"Huh?!" Rose cried out in question.

Edward smiled thinly, something viscous but not ugly (never ugly, not when it came to her) was the look in his feral eyes.

"Rose," gently, Ed thought, like she was Al or Winry when they were doing stupid shit, "that was a list that represented the complete chemical makeup of a human body for the average adult. It had been calculated to the last microgram, but still there has never been one reported case of successfully creating a human life."

Some people put their faith in gods to be able to live their life; some, like him, lived their life to achieve a goal. There had once been a time when Ed use to pray with mom. He had even prayed after mom had died but had stopped a long time ago.

It wasn't the constant frustration of loose ends (till now, Edward thought, Cornello's ring on his mind). No, he had stop praying even before that. It wasn't even the bastard's sharp jabs that were constant; always there as though Edward would ever let himself forget. What an idiot; how'd that man ever become a Colonel? Besides obviously burning children and women to death that corpses he climbed on to get to the top of the military.

No it hadn't been that either.

"So you're telling me something modern science can't do, you can do with prayer?"

Rose trembled in frustration, her fists clenched in determination. "Lift thy voice to our goddess. And the prayers of the faithful shall be answered!"

Talk to her like Al or Winry, Ed thought again. Take another path if they won't listen because blowing up on them for being stupid always got Ed a bar of soap in his mouth.

"Do you know who Ishvala is?" Edward asked, voice lazy and uncaring in sound even though he was anything but.

"Brother," Al started but Edward waved a hand dismissively in his direction.

"She's the patron goddess of Ishvalans. They prayed to her for deliverance, strength, and safety but you know what? Their rotting corpses still ended up dug up by some animal because the soldiers that murdered woman and children didn't care to put rocks ontop of the unmarked mass graves they threw the corpses in. Where was Ishvala then?"

Edward stretched his arms as far as part as they could be from clapping, from praying. "Here we are - the world is still going on. You can be as sure as shit that the universe is too. What about Leto and Ishvala? What about God, huh? I'm not being sarcastic - I want to know."

There was an ugly silence in the room because Rose didn't have answer to that. Nobody ever did.


End file.
